Chapter 18 Before
Before
Christmas arrived, and the only thing making it bearable was Randy.
Annabelle and her mother had always celebrated the holidays with joy, accumulating traditions over the years.
She bought her mother a small tree and had hoped to decorate it with her, but Miriam just stared at it as if she had no idea what it was.
Even putting some of their cherished ornaments on it hadn’t jogged her memory.
Today Annabelle would meet Randy’s whole family. They arrived at his parents’ house, and she felt her stomach flutter with nerves.
“I hope they like me,” she said, smoothing down her dress as they got out of the car, holding the gift basket she’d brought for them.
“They’re going to love you. My sisters can’t wait to meet you. If they try to give you the third degree, feel free to ignore them.” He laughed. “They can be a little much sometimes.”
As soon as they walked into the house, everyone descended upon them, shouting their hellos, hugging, and kissing. As an only child, it wasn’t a scene Annabelle was used to, but it made her wish they were her family. How wonderful it must be to have so many people to love.
“Hi, Annabelle,” his mother gushed as she pulled her into a hug. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”
“Thank you for including me in your Christmas,” Annabelle said.
“You’re more than welcome,” Randy’s father boomed, also giving her a warm hug. “Come on in and meet everyone.”
Randy’s three sisters were lovely, not at all the way he made them sound.
They whisked Annabelle off and got her some eggnog.
The four of them sat together for over an hour, laughing and getting to know one another.
By the end of the day, Annabelle was smitten with all of them.
As they were driving away after dinner, she turned to Randy.
“I had such a good time. Your family is great.”
He grabbed her hand. “Thank you for coming today. Everyone loved you, like I knew they would.”
“They were wonderful. This isn’t an easy day for me. I’d like to stop and see my mom.”
He looked at his watch. “Didn’t you say nights aren’t the best time for her? Maybe it’s better if you go in the morning.”
She hesitated. He was right about that, but still, she felt guilty letting the day go by without seeing her mother.
“Yeah, but still. You don’t have to come with me. Let’s go to your house, and I’ll get my car.”
“Okay.”
She was disappointed that he didn’t offer to go with her but said nothing. It was hard enough for her, so maybe she was expecting too much from him. But after she’d spent the whole day with his family, it would have been nice if he could spare a little time for hers.
—
Annabelle was now spending half her nights at Randy’s house.
James didn’t seem to mind, and the three of them had fallen into a companionable routine on the nights James wasn’t working at the hospital.
They’d have dinner together and play a game or two afterward, before she and Randy would retire to his room.
It was her turn to cook tonight. She’d looked up a recipe for lasagna since that was Randy’s favorite dish. She wished she’d realized how complicated it was before undertaking it, but as she watched him take a bite, she was pleased to see him nod approvingly.
“Best I’ve ever tasted,” he said.
Annabelle put a forkful in her mouth. The sauce was bitter, and the noodles not fully cooked. She grimaced. “Liar,” she replied, laughing. “I’m not sure it’s supposed to be crunchy.”
James took a heaping helping, ate a forkful, and then arched an eyebrow. “It’s the most interesting lasagna I’ve ever had. The raisins are a nice touch.”
She pushed the plate away from her. “Pizza on me. This is inedible.”
James pulled out his phone and ordered a pizza. Then he smiled at Annabelle. “I’ve got it. You’re still a student.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “On its way.”
“Thanks,” she said, grateful that she wouldn’t have to dip into her dwindling cash. She appreciated James’s thoughtfulness. She knew he couldn’t make that much as a resident, but he always did small things to make it easier on her.
“How was your mom yesterday?” James asked.
“In a happy mood. Didn’t ask to go home, so I’m hoping she’s getting used to it there.”
“Did you play some of the old songs she liked?”
Annabelle nodded. “Thanks so much for suggesting it. She actually remembered some of the lyrics and was singing along. It was the first time in I don’t know how long that I saw a genuine smile on her face.”
“It’s amazing what music can do. I suggest doing that each time you see her,” James said.
“Yeah, I was thinking of getting her a CD player and some CDs, so the nurses can play music when I’m not there.”
“Great idea,” Randy said.
“I have one I don’t need. You can take it if you like,” James said.
“That would be great, thank you.” She yawned. “I’m wiped. I’m going to take off. I’ve got a full day of classes tomorrow. I want to stop and see Mom in the morning.”
“Are you sure? The pizza’s not even here yet,” Randy said.
“Yeah, you guys enjoy.” She’d been staying over a lot lately, and she was getting too used to it.
She didn’t like the way she was starting to depend on Randy, and the last thing she needed was for Mrs. Miller to get upset that she was gone so much and ask her to move out. She said goodbye and drove home.
When she got to her apartment, she microwaved some ramen and ate it in front of the television, but her mind wandered.
Her period was three weeks late. She hadn’t yet said anything to Randy, but she was worried.
She was never late. She glanced over at the box sitting on the coffee table.
She hadn’t been able to work up the nerve to take the test yet.
She was graduating in a few months, and she needed to find a job soon after.
What the hell was she going to do if she was pregnant?
She cursed her stupidity in not stopping Randy that night they’d had no condom.
If she was pregnant, it had to have happened then.
That was almost two months ago. When would she be due?
Was it exactly nine months from conception?
Sighing, Annabelle opened her laptop and googled it.
A pregnancy calculator came up. She input the date of her last period and her possible conception date, then hit enter.
Confetti filled the screen and the message: Congratulations!
Your due date is September13. You are 5 Weeks Pregnant. She gasped out loud.
Calm down, she told herself. Maybe she was late because she was under so much stress.
That happened sometimes. “Just take the damn test already,” she said out loud.
Taking a deep breath, she picked up the box and went to the bathroom, following the instructions.
She left the stick on the counter and set her phone timer for ten minutes.
She went back to her computer and navigated to the Facebook profile she’d been monitoring ever since her mother had gotten sick.
There he was, looking happy and relaxed on the slopes with his current wife and their twin daughters.
The girls looked to be around nine or ten; adorable, blond-haired, and blue-eyed, like their mother.
His wife was younger than he was—by at least twenty years.
But time had been kind to him. In his late fifties, he could easily pass for fortysomething.
His hair was still thick and only sprinkled with gray, which on a man always looked distinguished.
She clicked through the photos, her gut tightening with anger.
They were in Switzerland—Davos. They all had on fancy-looking jackets, ski glasses, and skis.
His wife, Olga, was leaning into him with an arm around the two girls who stood in front of her.
She was model pretty, and Annabelle wondered how he had snagged her, and if she knew he had ditched his first family.
She didn’t know if he was the one who’d made the money or if he’d married into it, but she would bet it was the latter.
His wife didn’t have any social profiles, so Annabelle wasn’t able to find out too much about her, other than a few articles about her parents and their large endowments to Princeton, their alma mater.
Annabelle felt confident that his good fortune was not of his own making.
Gerard Morgan (previously George Morgan), the name he was now using, listed his occupation as an entrepreneur with some vague language about investments and digital currency.
He was certainly not discriminating with his Facebook friend requests, as it had taken her no time at all to put up a fake profile, with a photo of a stunning blonde, and send him a friend request, which was speedily accepted.
Annabelle hadn’t seen him in person in over seventeen years.
He’d left when she was six. Her last memory of him was when she’d fallen off her bike and gashed her leg.
He’d taken her to the Emergency Room for stitches, holding her and assuring her that she would be fine.
She could still remember the smell of his aftershave, and the way the stubble of his beard felt against her cheek.
He’d held her hand while they stitched her up, making up a fairy tale in which she was the princess whom the evil witch had made fall.
Afterward, he took her for ice cream, a triple-dip chocolate cone.
A few days later, he was gone. Her mother told her that he’d had to go far away for work, and that she hoped he’d come back soon.
As she got older, and her mother couldn’t protect her any longer, she found out the truth: that he’d left them with no intention of ever returning.
Even though in the divorce agreement he was responsible for alimony and child support, he left the state and never sent a dime to her mother.
Annabelle never heard from her father again.
To this day, she hated chocolate ice cream.
When Annabelle was older, she wondered if perhaps her mother had prevented him from getting in touch or intercepted his communication.
But what she discovered broke her heart and made her love her mother even more.
Despite his abandoning her, her mother had tried to get in touch with him over the years, beseeching him to stay connected to Annabelle for her sake.
She’d even offered to legally absolve him of any financial obligation if he would only make time for his daughter.
All her letters were returned to her with Return to Sender in bold letters.
When she’d asked her mother why she hadn’t sued him for the alimony and child support, her mother had shaken her head sadly.
“I never wanted you to be in the middle of a legal battle, and I didn’t want to spend my time and energy fighting in court.
I made enough to take care of us. Your father is not a good man.
For your sake, I tried to convince myself that having him in your life was better than not.
But he wanted to move on. I never wanted you to feel like raising you was a burden.
You didn’t belong to him anymore, so I didn’t want to pull him back into our lives. ”
Now her mother was incapable of changing her mind and going after him for what she was owed.
The money from the sale of the house wouldn’t last forever, and Annabelle would be damned if she’d put her mother in an inferior facility.
When it became clear to her that she wasn’t going to be able to afford it on her own for much longer, she decided she would find him and make him pay.
Now that her mother was incapacitated, Annabelle had the right to represent her legally.
From her internet searches, she was pretty sure that he was still legally responsible for all those years he paid nothing.
Serendipitously, her landlady’s son was an attorney.
He had promised to ask around at his law firm for a family attorney willing to take her case pro bono.
For her mother’s sake, Annabelle was going to do whatever she had to do to make him pay restitution. He owed her that at least.
The timer on her phone went off and she stood. Time to face the music. She went into the bathroom and picked up the stick.